My Name Is Anthony
by Repeat
Summary: [-future.race-] ((CHAPTER 5 IS UP!)) The newsies go to the nuthouse... somewhere we knew they'd end up! ((Lame summary, but it's hilarious, I promise!))
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Race or any of the other newsies... but if I did, I would share!**  
  
My name is Anthony.  
  
Actually, it's Antonio Salvador Higgins. Like you care. It's a weird name, I know. My mom was Italian and my dad was Irish, hence the mixed ethnicities. People call me a lot of things. Tony, Higgs, Ash-Man, (look at the initials. Get it? A. S. H.? Ash? Lame, I know, but what can you do with friends like mine?) And once even Annabelle LeFleur.  
  
But that's a different story.  
  
Most people just call me Racetrack, or Race.  
  
I suppose I'm your average guy. I like sports. (Basketball mostly, although I didn't make the school team, so I guess I'm not very good.) I live with my mom and two sisters, Jordan and Amy, who are, in fact, the devil (I'm exaggerating, but only slightly). I have never voluntarily consumed a brussels sprout, and I can tell you what year, month, week, day, hour, minute, what I was doing, and what I was wearing when Mark MacGuire hit his record homer. I cried the day Michael Jordan retired, and I get down when it rains for more than a few days. Like I said, I'm pretty normal. It's everyone around me that's absolutely insane.  
  
No joke. I know you hear all the crazy people say that on old movies. You know, the ones with the straight jacket on yelling it over and over again as they throw themselves at the padded walls? The ones with the little bit of drool on their chin? You know which ones.  
  
But I'm not crazy. At least, I don't think I'm crazy. Didn't Freud or someone say that only crazy people think they're not crazy? But if you did think you were crazy, then you'd be crazy, which means that you wouldn't think you're crazy, so....  
  
I ramble on like this a lot. I get it from my friends, mostly.  
  
The subject of my sanity can be argued about for hours. But I think I'll let you decide for yourselves whether it's everyone else, or just me. 


	2. Moldy, Bacteria Ridden Pork Fried Rice

A/N: I didn't really go anywhere with this chapter, I know. I'm sorry. But this chapter is a TRUE argument I had with my brother, and I had to vent. The plot begins in the next chapter, I promise! Please review! (And for all those who read the 14th annual newsie awards; the management took it down because it was 'interactive'. I'm sorry, I know you were looking forward to it!)  
  
**Disclaimer**  
  
~*~ "Jordan! JORDAN!"  
  
That would be me yelling. I was in the kitchen when I had opened the refrigerator and discovered that my little white box of leftover Chinese food was gone.  
  
"Jor-DAN! You little thief."  
  
"What?"  
  
I turned away from the fridge and whammed right into our kitchen island. We didn't used to have a kitchen island, but our kitchen was destroyed when my bedroom collapsed in on it.  
  
Long story.  
  
Anyway, we we're in the process of getting a much cooler kitchen now. My mom's a lawyer, and she got the company to fix everything. Plus, the builder was so scared that something else would happen, he was doing all the work for free.  
  
But anyways.  
  
So I slammed into the kitchen island and resisted the urge to say something I shouldn't repeat. But now I was mad with a bruise on my hip, so I stuck my finger in my little sister's face. "You little thief! You ate my pork fried rice!"  
  
Jordan rolled her eyes. "Anthony, it was like a week old."  
  
"I don't care! It was mine! I was saving it! I want it. I want it right now."  
  
A couple of years ago that would have scared her, but now she was older, and my words just didn't strike fear into her heart like they used to. "Anthony, I took your stupid rice yesterday. And I threw it out."  
  
"What?!? You threw out my pork fried rice? You're always doing something with my leftovers!"  
  
She shook her head, slowly, pitifully. "It was like a week old, duh. It was too old, duh. It would have made you barf up your kidneys, duh. Rice doesn't exactly stay good forever, duh. And by the way, did I mention, duh?"  
  
"You should have asked me!" I cried, in no mood to be reasonable. Normally, I'm a nice guy. But you don't wanna mess with my Chinese food. Not ever. Then I get dangerous.  
  
Jordan put her hands on her hips. "Hmm, lets see. Take your moldy, bacteria ridden rice and throw it away, like Mom asked me to, or let you eat it and get your stomach pumped?"  
  
Well. When she put it that way. Not being able to think of a crushing comeback, but still not wanting to let her get the better of me, I warned, "I'll let it go this time."  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Thank you, thank you King Anthony, for letting me live. I'm so grateful."  
  
Just then my mom came in, her jumbo, extra large, can-fit-an-elephant- in-there-if-you-tried-really-hard briefcase banging against her legs. "Hey Tony, how was school? What do you want for dinner? Did you do your homework? Where's Amy? Don't tell me she's at Jessica's house. Whenever she goes there, she comes home wanting another Barbie."  
  
That's my mom for you. Like I said she's a lawyer, so she's used to interrogating people. We've pretty much all gotten used to it. "I'm fine, school was good, and I'm going to Tibby's with the guys later."  
  
Jordan smiled smugly. "We could always order Chinese food for dinner. Anthony would like some pus-covered rice."  
  
Just then Amy came running through the back door. "Mommy, mommy, Jessica has a lawyer Barbie. A lawyer, just like you!" My mom hefted Amy up into her arms and said to me, "Have fun honey. Curfew is ten o'clock, and say hi to Jack for me!" Then she turned back to Amy and proceeded to break her heart about not buying her the Barbie.  
  
I grabbed up my jacket and headed out the door to Tibby's.  
  
~*~  
  
I know what you're saying. Doesn't sound crazy, right? The only thing that was crazy about that was Jordan thinking she could throw out my rice. Man, she's getting way too independent. But that wasn't the crazy part of my story. Believe me, the weirdness is just beginning. 


	3. CINNAMON BUN!

A/N: Ahhh, the plot begins! I'm writing as very fast as I can, so please bear with me. Also, the newsies get a little weird in this one... brace yourselves. Please R&R! ^Shout outs at the end!!^  
  
**Disclaimer** Also, I do own Edward Knickerbotter, but I do not own Tibby's, the Hagelins, Les's candy, ANY Brittany Spear's CD, Cinnamon buns, Tyra Banks, or Paris Hilton. Thank you.  
  
Tibby's is this cool restaurant that's right down the street from my house. It's about a ten-minute walk, unless the Hagelins have their dog out, because then you have to take the long way around. The Hagelins have a huge German shepherd, Tigger, who they insist is completely harmless, so they don't tie him up. Tigger is, in short, my sworn enemy. It's not my fault, the dog is evil. We've had a mutual hatred for each other ever since I was ten and tried to sell them candy bars, and ended up being chased down the street yelling, "Good doggie! I meant you were stupid and slobbering in a nice way! Good dog! Good dog!"  
  
In hindsight, probably not a smart move to call him a good dog when he was attacking me.  
  
But Tigger was nowhere in sight today (I think he went to the vet's, and it serves him right) and I was at Tibby's at precisely 5:03. And you know what else is cool? I found a wallet on my way there. It was just lying on the sidewalk right outside the door. At first I thought it was a trick, and someone was going to jump out and kick my butt while I bent over to pick it up. Don't ask my why I thought that. My friends call me paranoid, but I'm just cautious. It could happen.  
  
After I managed to squat down without exposing my posterior, (not an easy thing, I'll tell you. I kinda had to turn my toes so they were facing completely outward, like a ballet dancer's, and slowly bend my knees while keeping my hips forward. Try it, it's hard! But then when I had grabbed the wallet, I stood up so fast that I fell over backwards and landed on my butt. So much for all my hard work.) Once I had casually brushed myself off and glanced around to make sure no one had seen my little excursion, I pushed open the door to Tibby's. Then I stopped, because it was a pull door. So I pulled it open and walked inside.  
  
All my friends were already there. There were ten of us (eleven, if you count Davey's little brother Les). Jack, Davey, Mush, Blink, Spot, Itey, Skittery, Bumlets, Specs, and of course, my charming self. We all have code names from when we used to play spy when we were seven, and we never stopped using them. We've been friends forever, even though we don't remember how we met. Not even our parents remember, so there's probably a crazy story behind that too. Shame I can't tell it, but what can you do?  
  
I joined them at our usual table. We eat at that same spot every time we go there, it might as well have a reserved sign on it. Not that there were tons of people waiting to sit down. Sometimes I think if it wasn't for us, Tibby's would go out of business.  
  
After all hellos had been exchanged, I smiled my 'I-have-a-secret' smile. "Hey guys. Check out what I found."  
  
"IS IT CANDY????" Les cried. The kid's mind was always centered on candy. Right now he had one of those ring-pops on his finger, a candy necklace around his neck, and he was sucking on a warhead, so his face was scrunched up really tight. I swear, that stuff is like crack for him.  
  
Back to the story. We all looked at Les for approximately four point two seconds, and then everyone turned back to me.  
  
"What is it Race?" Jack asked.  
  
Not wanting to end my game so quickly, I thought for a second. "If you guys can guess what it is, then you can have it," I said finally.  
  
"But what if we don't want it?" Skittery asked, looking up from his soup. He was always looking on the downside of things. He calls himself a realist. We just call him depressed. "What if it's a dirty tissue or a rock or a pen cap or a piece of poo-"  
  
"A piece of poo?" Mush echoed. "I don't think I want a piece of poo. I have my own, thanks."  
  
"-Or a fork or a beetle or a string or a diaper or a hair ball or a scrap of paper or a Brittany Spears CD-"  
  
"HIT MY BABY ONE MORE TIME!" Specs yelled.  
  
"- Or a piece of glass or a eraser-"  
  
"AN eraser Skit. We must use proper English now, shall we?" Blink said in a rather sophisticated English accent.  
  
"-Or a rag or a dead frog or a kitten-"  
  
"Hey now, what do you have against kittens?" Davey asked.  
  
"- Or AN empty bag (He looked at Blink while he said this.) Or a feather or a-"  
  
"SKIT!" I hollered. Everyone turned to look at me. "You don't have to worry, because it's not any of those things."  
  
Skittery looked quite taken aback, like he actually expected me to bring them a dead frog. "Well you can't blame me for wondering." He simply, then went back to eating his soup.  
  
"So Race, what is it REALLY?" Spot asked.  
  
"Well," I began. Everyone leaned forward. "I found... a hundred- dollar bill!"  
  
"REALLY?" Bumlets cried.  
  
"No," I said. Everyone looked rather disappointed, until I pointed out, "It's not like I would have shared it with you guys anyways." They perked up a little. "But I did find this wallet." I pulled it out for them to see.  
  
"Hey Race, where did you find that?" Blink asked.  
  
"I found it outside on the sidewalk," I said. "And it was not an easy thing to get either." I was about to go into my tale of how I picked it up, when Spot interrupted.  
  
"Hey Race, you can't keep this." He said, looking at the wallet. "It belongs to Edward Knickerbotter."  
  
Mush sucked in a huge gasp of air. "You mean you STOLE it?!?" he cried.  
  
"No Mush, I found it, I already told you that."  
  
"Oh, okay then." He looked at me sternly. "But you ARE going to give it back, right?" He put his face really close to mine, so it was only a few centimeters away. "RIGHT?"  
  
"All right, all right, I'll give it back." I shouted, pushing him away. "Just calm down. Remember our talk about personal space?" He nodded. "What did we say?"  
  
"You said that you and the space three feet around you is your space, and if any part of that space is violated by anyone other than Tyra Banks or Paris Hilton, then they will be struck down by a lightning bolt sent from the eternal being that watches over you."  
  
"Very good Mush."  
  
"CINNAMON BUN!"  
  
"Huh? That wasn't part of the code of personal space."  
  
"I didn't say it."  
  
We both looked around for the speaker, until our eyes rested on Itey. His eyes were locked on Jack, who had been waiting at the counter. He had a paper plate with a giant cinnamon bun on it. It was one of the really big-super-huge-jumbo ones too, with extra icing and extra cinnamon. Lots of extra cinnamon. Itey's eyes were glazed over and he was drooling a little.  
  
"Okay, so I figure we can all have a bite and then we can do rock paper scissors shoot to see who gets the extra..." Jack trailed off, looking at Itey with a mixed expression of amusement and awe.  
  
Itey had snagged the plate with the bun on it and the plastic for that went with them too. He furiously shoved them into his mouth. Bun AND plate AND fork.  
  
I calmly reached over and yanked the fork out of his mouth. It was too late to save the plate.  
  
We all watched him for a few minutes as he gulped and slobbered and shoved with his fingertips. It was like a python attempting to eat a small pig.  
  
"So, Edward Knickerbotter, huh?" I asked Spot, breaking the trace.  
  
"Yup," he said, handing the wallet back to me. "Says he lives at 429 Mulberry Street."  
  
I took it. "I'll return it tomorrow after school." I said.  
  
"We'll go with you," Bumlets offered.  
  
"YEA!" Mush said, getting up in my face again. "JUST to make sure you ACTUALLY give it back!"  
  
I sighed. "Mush, what did we say about personal space again?"  
  
"You said that you and the space three feet around you is your space, and..."  
  
SHOUT OUTS: (my fave part)  
  
Nani: Yea, I made Race weird... but not too weird! I could never do that to someone so hot.... Itey and Mush are the weird ones here. WOW you have your own fridge??? Lucky... Hope you liked this chapter!  
  
Scout: WATTA YA MEAN YA DON'T LIKE PORK FRIED RICE!?!?!? Insane-o! Ne wayz, yea, u kno wats coming next and if I get bad reviews its all ur fault cuz u didn't tell me to change ne thing!!! Nlol jp cargando los titulares! 


	4. les éléphants violets prendront pardessu...

**Disclaimer** O! I own Captain SuperGuy and all his adventures. Hehe... I own something cool. Yay!  
  
A/N: When we last left our newsies, they were about to return Mr. Knickerbotter his wallet. Let's continue... (shout outs at the end)  
  
"Are you sure this is the right place?" Jack asked me doubtfully.  
  
I looked at the address in the wallet again. "429 Mulberry Street," I confirmed.  
  
"So, this is the nuthouse," Spot said thoughtfully, looking up the hill at the pleasant looking but oddly quiet two-story building. He grinned slyly. "You know, I always thought we'd end up here."  
  
It was the next day. I had just suffered through three of my worst classes, and on a beautiful day like this staying inside all that time was practically a crime. Then again, I think all forms of school are a crime, so I might be a little biast.  
  
"I don't think the patients here like to be called nuts," Skittery said condescendingly.  
  
"Of course not," Blink replied. "They'd have to be nuts to want to be called nuts." Spot gave him a discreet high-five behind his back.  
  
Everyone laughed, even Davey, who was trying (with the usual lack of success) to get us to be serious.  
  
We were standing outside the Martin J. Marreck State Mental Facility. It was a two-story brick building, with lots of shady trees and flowers. There were walkways going through gardens, and a fountain just outside the front door. It could have been an old folk's home or something. Except for the six-foot high chain-link fence. And the barbed wire atop that fence. And the security cameras everywhere you looked. And the wire mesh and iron bars on all the windows. But aside from all that, it looked perfectly nice.  
  
"Who else has the willies?" Bumlets asked, raising his hand.  
  
"What are the willies?" Les asked, tugging on the leg of the older boy's pants.  
  
"Willies, noun. A creepy or unsettling feeling." He explained. "The vague, disturbing sense that something, somewhere, is horribly wrong."  
  
"The feeling I get when I see school every morning," I muttered.  
  
"School, nuthouse, what's the difference when you get down to it?" Blink asked philosophically. "Dumb rules and bad food in both places."  
  
"Come on guys, let's just give the guy his wallet back and go home. I have a project to re-do." Skittery whined.  
  
"What, the science project?" Specs asked.  
  
"Yea."  
  
"Why do you have to re-do it?"  
  
"Because if I take a 56 home, my mom will kill me."  
  
"A 56!?!"  
  
"Yes, Specs, a 56. What, did you think I'm trying to go from a 99 to a 100?"  
  
"PEOPLE! A LITTLE FOCUSING PLEASE!" I yelled. We all got in a huddle. "Here's the plan."  
  
"We have a plan?"  
  
"Yes, Mush we have a plan. What we're gonna do is-"  
  
"When did we come up with a plan?"  
  
"MUSH!"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Go over there and recite the code of personal space."  
  
"But-"  
  
"Do you want to get struck by a lightning bolt?"  
  
Sigh. "No." Mush walked over to a tree and began to recite.  
  
"Okay," I said finally. "We're just gonna go in, give the guy his wallet, leave Les in there, and go home."  
  
"HUH?!?" Les cried.  
  
"Hey guys," Dave said responsibly. "I think we're gonna have to limit the number of nut jokes from here on out." He looked around. "Whenever we lose focus, something always goes wrong, and we'd have to be nuts to get careless." No one laughed. "I said, we'd have to be NUTS.... Fine, don't laugh. I don't care. Let's just get this done with."  
  
So we trooped into the building, leaving Mush screaming "WAIT FOR ME!!" and sprinting after us.  
  
We trooped through the gate. We trooped up the front lawn. We trooped up the walkway. We trooped up the stairs. We trooped through the front door. We were trooping past the front desk when we realized that we weren't moving anymore. I mean, we were moving our feet and stuff, but we weren't GOING anywhere. We were just marching in place. "Hey, what's going on?" I asked, looking around the lobby. When I finally looked back in front of me, I jumped back.  
  
"What IS it?!?" Spot screamed.  
  
There in front of us stood a creature so huge it blocked out the lame fluorescent lights. It was well over seven feet tall, with thick arms and legs that were covered in curly dark black hair. It was so thick, that if you tried to give it a hug, (not that you would ever want to) your arms wouldn't even fit halfway around it. It was wearing a white cloth around its whole body, and a tiny white hat that was swallowed up by the mound of hair piled on top of its head. We all shrunk back in fear.  
  
"I think... it's the receptionist." Jack said slowly.  
  
"OU PENSEZ-VOUS QUE VOUS ALLEZ??" A booming voice demanded. It took me a second to realize that it was coming from this... this woman... in front of us.  
  
"What did she say?" Bumlets asked in a hushed voice.  
  
"She said, 'Where do you think you're going?'" Blink replied calmly. We all turned to look at him.  
  
"I didn't know you knew French, Blink." Dave said.  
  
"Of course I do. I'm in your French class."  
  
"Oh yeah. Hey, did you get the homework?"  
  
"It was page 57, 1-20."  
  
"Oh, ok. Thanks."  
  
"No problem."  
  
Itey stared at her, his eyes wide. "This is just like in Adventures of SuperGuy, number 64, Attack of the Foreign Government Agents, when Captain SuperGuy goes to the ware house that was fronting as a nuthouse so the foreign spies could keep the American secret agents that were being held hostage a secret and then he rescued them and once again saved the day," he whispered in one breath.  
  
I stepped forward. "Nobody make any sudden movements," I told them quietly. Then, I put my hands out in a gesture of peace. In a loud, clear voice, I said, "WE... COME... IN... PEACE... AND... MEAN... NO... HARM... TO... YOUR... PLANET. WE... WANT... TO... RETURN... THIS... WALLET... TO... ONE... OF... THE... AGEN- UH, I MEAN PATIENTS... HERE." I held my breath and waited for the reply.  
  
"VISITER LES HEURES SONT PAR-DESSUS. REVIENT DEMAIN." It was so loud my ears rung. I couldn't believe a voice so low could come out of a female of ANY species, even one that looked like that.  
  
"Visiting hours are over. Come back tomorrow." Blink translated.  
  
"BUT... WE... JUST... WANT... TO... GIVE... HIM... HIS... WALLET!"  
  
"OBTENIR HORS! OBTENIR HORS! VANDALES!!" ("Get out! Get out Vandals!" Blink cried.)  
  
I don't know who ran first. Maybe it was me. Maybe we just had all the fear and horror we could stand. It was like an electric shock went through all of us. We were up and running before we even knew what we were doing.  
  
"JE'LL VOUS OBTIENT LES GOSSES! CELA'LE S IL! COURIR TOUT VOUS COMME! JE'LL VOUS OBTIENT JUSTE PAREIL!" (I'll get you kids! That's it! Run all you like! I'll get you just the same!)  
  
We tore out the door like a thousand nightmares were at our heels.  
  
SHOUT OUTS!!!!  
  
Nani: Who isn't a candyholioc??? (or a newsieholioc, for that matter!) O, theyre weird, but we love them newayz!  
  
Bobcat:slashgoil: OMG I LUV ITEY TOO!!!! He is obviously the comic relief newsie!!! Glad u luv da fic, hope u liked the chapter!  
  
Sgtpeppersgirl: Yea, I kinda figured about the Spanish... hope you got the French in this chapter nlol. Don't worry, Itey is DEFINATLY the weird one!!!! Thx for reviewing glad u liked it!  
  
Spritzah conlon: o, I luv the code of personal space!!! Hope you liked the chapter, and keep reviewing! 


	5. Dirty Socks and Twister

A/N: So, the writing goes a little slow. Sorry, but my muse is too busy taking care of other people's muses to help me out. I know this chapter is short, but I might have time to put up one more before I go on vacation. (No computer for a whole week..... how will I survive?!?!) Anyways, hope you like the chapter and hopefully another update soon.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own newsies, but if I did I would share.... A little bit, anyways. Hmm, what else don't I own?.... Twister! Yea, that's it! I don't own twister either.  
  
We were all standing just outside the main building, doubled over and gasping for breath.  
  
"Well that was fun." Spot said. But since we had just sprinted about 30 yards (I know, it was a big lobby. I don't know if all nuthouse lobbies are that big, or maybe it's just this one. I think it's just this one, though. Pity, it was a nice lobby.) It came out more like, "Well" -gasp- "that was" -cough cough gasp- "fun."  
  
"Yeah," Bumlets agreed. "Let's never do it again."  
  
"Ever," I added.  
  
"I like running," Itey said happily. "It reminds me of the days when I used to run and run and run and run and run and run and run and run and run and run and run and run and run and run and run and-"Smack. "OW JACK!! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!? Like I was SAYING... run and run and run and run..." Itey continued on as he walked over to a tree and tried to do a headstand.  
  
"What are we going to do now?" Les asked.  
  
"We're going back in," Mush said.  
  
"Back in where?" demanded Bumlets  
  
"Back in Fort Knox, Bum." Dave said sarcastically. "Where do you think? In the hospital."  
  
"Are you INSANE?!?" Specs cried.  
  
"A little," admitted Itey.  
  
Dave jumped a little. "Where did you come from?" he asked, startled.  
  
"From the stork, duh." Itey replied, looking at Dave like he was just a bit dim.  
  
"Listen," Mush said. "We may not have won in there. It sucked pretty bad. But we have to keep trying. We can't just give up because we had one bad run. If we start giving in now, we might as well give in for the rest of our lives." He looked around. "They say you never know how brave someone is until they're in the middle of a battle. Well, I don't wanna be a coward." He added quieter, "We're going back in."  
  
We all just stared at him for about a minute. I don't think any of us ever expected something so profound and serious to ever come out of his mouth. But then he totally ruined it by saying, "And besides, we HAVE to give him his wallet back, or how's he gonna pay to get his socks washed?"  
  
I sighed. "He's right, you know. About the first half, anyway."  
  
"Never thought I'd hear you say that." Blink mumbled.  
  
"But it's true. You don't quit the sport just because you lost one game." I pressed.  
  
"Some game. Some sport." Skittery muttered.  
  
Jack looked around tersely. "Whatever we decide to do, we can't do it now. We have to lie low, come back later. We'll meet here at midnight."  
  
"But JACK!! Midnight is past my BEDDY BYE TIME!" Itey bellowed.  
  
"MINE TOO!" Les yelled.  
  
"AND ME!" Mush hollered.  
  
"AND ME!" shouted Spot. We all looked at him. "What?" he asked. "Can't I be randomly cute like those guys?"  
  
"No." I said. "Now, let's just chill out and go home. We can come back to give the stupid guy his wallet at midnight like Jack said."  
  
"But RACE!! Midnight is past my-"  
  
"Do you wanna give the guy his wallet or not!" I yelled.  
  
Itey considered this for a moment. "Okay." He said simply. Then he went back to doing headstands near the tree. The rest of us started to walk off in the direction of our houses.  
  
"Wait, we aren't ACTUALLY going to do this, are we?" Skittery asked, still standing in the spot where we left him.  
  
"Of COURSE we are Skitts." Mush said, going back to him. "You don't wanna be a CRIMINAL, do you? Besides," he threw his arm over Skittery's shoulders. "It won't be THAT bad. It might even be fun. We might even play twister. And there's nothing funner than playing twister. HEY RACE! DO YA THINK WE CAN PLAY TWISTER WITH THE CRAZY PEOPLE???"  
  
SHOUTOUTS!!!  
  
Famous: Who DOESN'T luv mush?? Come on, he's just so damn cute. *Sigh* fine, no long review for the last chapter, but I better get a good one now! (just kidding!) *mumbles: lucky... paris......*  
  
nani: I think deep down, we ALL knew that the newsies would end up there.... It's just inevitable. (hehe... big word!) Obviously, the receptionist girl is not a girl at all but a hideous creature that only LOOKS human... Thx for the review hope you liked this chappie! 


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